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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29349816">How to Suture a Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prozzy/pseuds/Prozzy'>Prozzy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chicago Med</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chicago Med - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Chicago (Chicago Franchise)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:47:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29349816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prozzy/pseuds/Prozzy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AU verse in which David Downey doesn't die. Dr Connor Rhodes and Dr David Downey were Gaffney medical's best surgical team, and best kept romantic secret. But one night Connor snaps and leaves David. Months later the two of them once again run into each other, but there's still hurt and pain between the two of them. They try to overcome what they went through but will their attempts to undo the hurt be enough to bring them together again?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David Downey &amp; Connor Rhodes (Chicago Med), David Downey/Connor Rhodes (Chicago Med)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How to Suture a Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A piece I've had sitting around for a little while, but only just picked back up. I expect to have a few chapters but nothing too long, I'm still trying to get back into these characters/the fandom so I know it's not perfect. Enjoy the read, and hopefully there will be more soon! P.S if there's any spelling/grammatical errors I'm sorry, I'm incredibly rusty at writing in general.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My heart jumps into my throat as I meet those all too familiar eyes from across the hallway. Blue like the ocean and skies I just left behind thinking it was finally the time. Seeing him standing there, the two of us staring at each other from across the nursing station, I realize it was never going to be the time. Turning my face away, I hurry to find something to look busy with. A patient chart in my hand does the trick just fine, and I make my way to the locker room more by memory than by sight.</p><p>By the time I get there I've managed to take a few deep breaths, desperate attempts to slow my racing heart. Sinking into a chair, I toss the patient chart, including the folder it had been in, onto a desk before dropping my head into my hands. It had been bound to happen sooner or later, and at least I had been able to walk away. <i>This time,</i> whispers a voice in the back of my mind. My fingers rub at my temples as I try to push it aside. What happens when I have to work with him?</p><p>"I'll make sure to help you avoid that," Maggie's voice echoes quietly in my ear in response to my accidentally voiced fear. Her hand appearing on my shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. I bite back a bitter laugh and settle myself further into the chair. That will only work for so long and we both know it.</p><p>Swallowing hard, I stare at the floor and mutter, "I hate this Mags." Even though it's my fault... Isn't it? Biting the inside of my check, I rub my hands against my thighs. I was the one who had walked away, but at the time it had seemed like the right thing to do. The best thing to help us both. And I had been right, even though it had hurt, both of us had flourished.</p><p>Maggie's grip slides from my shoulder. Gently, she takes my hand in hers and runs her thumb along the back. "I know you do, sweetheart. I do too, but this will work, you'll see. I'm going to do my best to keep you on opposite shifts."</p><p>I nod mutely, knowing that if I speak nothing will come out except tears. When I close my eyes I can feel the familiar brush against my cheek, the warmth of skin against skin. Pushing the thought away, I open my eyes and look up at Maggie with a weak smile. She'll do her best, but sooner or later David and I will meet again and I'm going to have to keep myself from falling apart.</p><p>Pushing myself to my feet, I reach for the discarded folder. I clear my throat quietly and say, "I'm just going to keep busy with work. I'll talk to you later, Mags." </p><p>Without giving her time to argue, I head for the door. Patient after patient goes by. Emergency has familiar patterns to it, easy rhythms and a familiarity that almost feels like trauma. The occasional challenge is always welcome to stay on my toes, but the day lacks any. The end of my shift comes and goes, I watch Ethan and then Will and Nat head for the door, each of them absorbed in their phones and conversations. It had been good working with them again. Each had been their own brand of welcoming and friendly with me, and it had been easy to slip into old patterns. </p><p>I wait for the clock to hit seven, and then eight and then nine. Finally the tension in my shoulders sends me running for my locker and bag. ID and keys in hand, I hurriedly slide past the nursing desk and out the staff exit. Walking as fast as I can without running toward my car, I wonder if this is really the best thing to do. Hiding until I know there's no possibility of running into him is no way to live until the next rotation comes out. Jaw set, I glance into my car window and stare at my reflection for a moment. <i>But I will keep doing it if it means not having to look him in the face again.</i> Unlocking my car, I throw my bag into the back seat and slam the door shut, taking out some of my growing frustration and despair.</p><p>"Connor?"</p><p>The voice appears suddenly behind me to my left. I want to vomit a moment after hearing it. Turning around slowly, I lean heavily against my car as my knees suddenly threaten to give out. I have to force air into my lungs, and I try for a smile but my lips refuse to move. "Hi David," I whisper back.</p><p>The man's eyes hold mine, so much swimming in their depths I don't want to see. Pain, confusion, and still after all this time that familiar warmth and affection. It makes me want to sink into him and tell him how sorry I am. That it was all just one big mistake. To stop myself I curl my fingers around the handle to my car. </p><p>"You probably don't want to see me-" The older doctor's voice cuts off mid-sentence. Frustration crosses his face and I flinch away, expecting him to raise his voice. "But today in the hallway, when you just walked away... it tore me apart, Connor."</p><p>He takes a step towards me, hands reaching for me. It would be so damn easy to go to him, to just let the past few months just disappear. But looking into his face, I remember all the lonely nights, all the times I spent wondering if I was even worth the man's time. Closing my eyes, I try to remember the last time the man made me feel loved and truly meant it. </p><p>It had been as I was leaving for a trip to visit my grandfather. I was going to be gone for a few weeks, wanting to spend as much time with him after he had taken a fall. I can still remember the way he had kissed me, hands cupped around my face and lips hungrily pressing against mine. He had gotten out to help me with my bags, had hugged me tightly and made me promise to come back to him. I told him I would, had given him my most confident smile. Not long after getting on my plane he had told me to go looking through my bags. It had only been a class ring from high school, but it made me cry all the same. </p><p>Once this man had made me feel loved and wanted and appreciated.</p><p>What happened?</p><p>Opening my eyes, I look up at him and slowly shake my head. Too much had happened over too many months. My demons had clawed at my mind and my trust one too many times, and I had fallen and picked myself up alone too many times. The same thing as always. Was it something to blame him for? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe we were both to blame at the end of it all. </p><p>He’s taken another step closer. I’m so close to breaking and falling into his arms. To inhale the scent of his after shave and soap, while being wrapped in one his tight hugs is all I want. To hear him whisper my name, his breath warming the shell of my ear. The hushed promises of a night curled in bed together, tucked safely under the blankets. Until the next time I need him and he’s not there.</p><p>Half turning away, I finally manage to drop my gaze from his. David takes the hint and freezes in place, his hands falling to his side. </p><p>“I miss you,” he murmurs quietly, voice nearly cracking over the few syllables. </p><p>Swallowing a sob, I take a moment to steady my breathing before replying, “I miss you too, David. I’m sorry about it all, but I-” I have to stop myself from continuing, knowing I’m only likely to start crying if I do. How to explain it all to him? Would he even begin to understand any of what I was trying to tell him? He didn’t the first time, or the second time, or even the third or fourth time. </p><p>Looking up at his face, the face I got to know over discussions about surgeries and warm mugs of tea, the face that I used to turn to for guidance and comfort, for love and healing… I feel as if I don’t know it anymore. And yet there’s a small hole in my heart that throbs with a need to reach for him. Fingers sliding from the car handle, I hurry to stuff them into my pockets. </p><p>"I needed more than you were able or willing to give." The words feel like lead in my mouth, each one falling and cracking the uneven ground between us, pushing us further away from each other. Closing my eyes, I find it easier to continue. The urge to cry diminishing, but only slightly. "I wanted so much and that wasn't fair to you… or to me. I miss everything… but staying would have only made it that much worse."</p><p>I hear his long, ragged inhale. My words have struck something, but I'm not sure what. Opening my eyes slowly, I don't want to look at him and see his pain, I swallow before raising my gaze to his. David's eyes are blurry with unshed tears, and his fingers curls and uncurl against his palms, jaw clenching and unclenching. I wonder what he wants to say but is firmly holding back. If I know him it's likely something snappish, a defence mechanism he hides behind almost constantly. </p><p>But the small traitorous voice in the back of my head argues, <i>Maybe he's as desperate to hold you as you are him.</i> A strangled sob escapes me, much to my horror, and I try vainly to keep the next one locked in place in my chest. When it breaks free, I finally turn around and put my back to him. I don't want him to see me like this again, to be reminded of why he had gotten so annoyed with me the first time around. My hand rises to my mouth in a desperate attempt to stop the noises from pouring out of me.</p><p>"Connor-" David's voice is rough and low and closer than it should be. Before I have time to look over my shoulder at the older doctor, his arms are around me and his face is buried in the back of my left shoulder. His fingers dig into my sides, pulling me against him until my back is flushed with his chest and stomach. It’s reminiscent of the way we used to fall asleep in his bed on nights he felt comfortable having me over. The usual feeling of warmth and security starts to wash through my veins, making me feel lighter than I have in weeks. I want nothing more than to turn to him and bury my face in the crook of his neck. My fingers twitch against my lip for a moment before my hand starts to drift towards the forearm pressed against my chest.</p><p>Slowly, my fingers curl around his arm, and I find myself pressing closer to him. To have spent so long without him and to finally have him back… it’s too much for his poor heart. Pain explodes in my chest like a fire, and I can’t help but dig my nails into the older doctor’s arm. Sob catching in my throat, I begin struggling against his hold, wanting nothing more than to be gone and alone with this sudden urge to self-destruct growing in the pool of my stomach. The surgeon must realize something’s happened because he begins pulling away, his fingers trailing across my chest and arms. </p><p>“Connor, I’m- I’m sorry.” The note of begging in the man’s voice has me shaking against my car. I hear the same loneliness and want in his voice that I know must be in mine whenever I talk about him. Tears are beginning to fall down his cheeks, I’ve seen him reach this point twice before. Once when his daughter had come into the hospital and the other when his father died. A small part of me feels vindictively thrilled to know he’s reached this low because of me, to know that his actions have finally shown him how wrong he was.</p><p>But when I turn to look at him, one hand clawed into my scrub top above my heart, and see the pain and uncertainty on his face, I immediately feel guilty. This man had claimed to love me, but pushed me aside time and time again. Had promised the time for more would come, but would never say when. Maybe I had been too impatient, too greedy once I knew what it was I was missing from my relationship with him. But was it really wrong of me to want more and demand more?</p><p>All of this is just too much. I just want to be home and sleeping. Maybe drinking and smoking my way to an early grave. But I had promised my grandfather and sister I wouldn’t start that again… What the fuck. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Quite frankly after watching David turn into the disaster that he currently is I need something to knock me on my ass. </p><p>Running my hands through my hair, I crouch next to the older doctor who has managed to sink to his knees onto the cold concrete. Swallowing back my own tears, I reach for his hand and carefully haul him to his feet. I can’t quite manage to meet his gaze though, and instead I focus on brushing off ice and slush from his pants. I can hear his confusion in the shuddering breaths in between sobs, but I focus instead on getting him stable against my car. I take a slow step back, leaving the man holding onto my driver’s side mirror and door handle to keep himself up. </p><p>Away from him my chest constricts further, making breathing next to impossible. But being next to him makes every fiber of my being question why I would allow myself to go for so long without him. Away from him it’s easier to remember, and to stay trapped behind my loneliness and dull anger. Closing my eyes again, I take a long, deep breath in. David has to go, I have to go. The further apart we get from each other and this moment the better. “I’ll call Maggie and ask her to find you a way home.”</p><p>My words must strike a nerve because I hear him whimper quietly. My eyes open as I dig out my cell, and start typing in the passcode. His head shakes from side to side, mouth working as if he’s trying to say something to me. Not caring, or trying not to, I once again turn away from him and start punching in the nurse’s number. The line rings only once before she picks up, for which I’m intensely grateful for.</p><p>“Connor, honey?” Maggie’s voice is raised slightly, and in the background I can hear the noises of a busy hospital. The Emergency Department must have exploded once I left. I briefly consider going back to help, but that will make the next morning’s shift all that more exhausting to deal with. “Connor, what’s wrong?”</p><p>Shaking my head a little, I glance over my shoulder quickly to check on the older doctor. He’s rubbing his face and struggling to stay pressed up against my car. Hating myself slightly, I turn back to my phone and offer Maggie a quick greeting. “I got Dr Downey out in the parking lot, he’s um, a little worse for wear. Can you or Sharon come grab him for me?”</p><p>“I can’t-” The nurse gets cut off for a moment to answer a question for a nurse before returning to the call. “But I’ll try and call Sharon to ask for you. Give me a few minutes.” Before I can even say so much as a thank you, the woman is gone and I’m left alone again with David.</p><p>Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I give myself a moment to breath and think. It takes longer than I originally planned on giving myself, but eventually I turn back to David. The older man’s cheeks are blotchy and covered in tear trails, his nose leaks on one side and his hair is messier than I’ve ever seen it. Except for… My mind violently tries to shove away a flood of memories, with one or two actually managing to stay lodged in the corners, tripping me every time I try to find that sense of peace I need in this moment. Reaching into my other pocket, I pull out a package of Kleenex and hold it in David’s direction. </p><p>There’s a mumbled thank you as he takes it from me. I watch as he stares at it for a moment, and I reach for it back. When he passes it back, I pull one of them out and hand it to him. He’s able to blot at his eyes a few times, but leaves his cheeks and nose a mess. A corner of my mouth twitches slightly in amusement before I pull out another and hand it to him. His eyes meet mine, and I see the unanswered question of why, so I point to his running nose. He swallows and tries to laugh slightly, but it sounds false to both of us and we cringe slightly. But he takes the Kleenex I hold out to him, and balling the two together he scrubs at his nose. </p><p>“God, I’m a fucking mess,” he mumbles hoarsely, while looking down at the damp tissues in his hands. </p><p>I don’t know how to respond to that so I try for a smile, and reply, “A mess, but a mess with good taste in shirts.” </p><p>A quiet snort leaves the older man as he slowly straightens. The two of them both spare a glance at the doctor’s brightly coloured shirt and stifle chuckles. As always it’s more a splash of multiple colours than a cohesive pattern. It’s not the first time I’ve seen the shirt, and I doubt it’ll be the last. Funny to think that at one point I had detested those shirts, only to come to love them when I spotted them from across the Emergency Department. </p><p><i>Because it meant he was looking for you,</i> comes the quiet voice in my head. Sighing, I rub my temple and look David in the face. The doctor seems to be recovering, at least he’s standing now instead of doubled over sobbing. The desire to reach for him and try to comfort him still sits in my chest, but somehow I manage to push it aside for the moment. Swallowing another sigh, I gesture towards my car. “Need a ride somewhere? Your car?”</p><p>David looks over his shoulder for a moment, and pauses. I can tell he’s heavily considering turning me down, but between the weather and the fact that I cannot see his car in the lot I know he’s likely to say yes. When he turns back to me with a gleam of uncertainty, I give him an awkward smile in return. Pulling my keys out, I motion for him to go around the side and get in. As much as my heart and stomach both hate the idea of being so close to him, I don’t want to leave him here alone.</p><p>We sit in silence in the car as I pull out of my spot. It’s only when I reach the lot exit that I turn to him and ask him where he wants me to take him. More silence passes between us for a few seconds efore he quietly asks to be taken home. Nodding, I flick on my signal hating that I don’t need to ask him for directions. A growing part of me wishes I had never asked Zanetti who David was, had never agreed to learn from the older doctor, had never… returned to America. Life hadn’t been easy in Riyadh, but looking back on it now it all seemed that much simpler. </p><p>Hands tightening on the steering wheel, I take a turn a little too sharply. David glances over at me, a slight frown on his face, making the lines around mouth standing out a little more. I remember kissing them one night, reassuring him that no they didn’t make him look older, only more refined. I remember the way his skin gave way beneath my fingers as I traced long lines down his back and chest. It hurts to remember, and I have to grit my teeth to stop the tears I can feel starting to build.</p><p>Thankfully it doesn’t take long to reach the doctor’s house, and soon enough I’m pulling up in front of it. A vague feeling of relief washes down my spine, followed closely by a wave of cold regret and disappointment. Our drive to his house had been silent, awkward and full of things we likely both want to say but are too afraid to. Sitting out front of his house, I chew on the inside of my lip and wonder what would really happen if I were to tell him everything that’s on my mind… And everything that’s ever been. When I turn to look at him all thoughts of being honest fall from my mind. He looks so tired, so defeated… I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I added more to that. So instead I try for one last smile, and a falsely cherry, “Well have a good night!”</p><p>A heavy sigh leaves the man and his hand reaches for the door handle. I’m turning away, ready to drive off the first chance I get, but I freeze when I don’t hear the farewell I’m waiting for. </p><p>“I know you hate me… You deserve to after all I did-” His voice breaks for a moment, and the urge to reach for him grows even stronger. “After everything I didn’t do. You deserve to be loved and happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. Because you… You’re a good man, Connor. And I’m sorry that I didn’t see what I was doing to you sooner.”</p><p>My head falls back against my head rest, and I blow air out through my nose. I don’t want to be here anymore, just home in my bed with my cat and a good strong drink in my hand. There’s so much to handle, and my own mental state feels like it’s only a few threads from snapping. I’m trying to think of what to say, but everything my mind comes up with seems to be missing something. Finally the silence between us becomes too much for David, and he opens my car door. Knowing I can’t let him walk out without saying anything to him, I reach for his arm and grab it. </p><p>I can feel the man tense under my hand, and I let go as soon as I know he won’t immediately leave. It takes me a long moment to look over at him, but I feel like I owe him at least that much. Swallowing, I try to get the words to start coming, but it takes a couple of tries for anything to happen. </p><p>“I don’t… hate you.” I pause, unsure of how to continue as that had been the only point I had really wanted to make. But as the silence stretches, I find myself talking more. “You did what you could, and I don’t hate you for it. Will never hate you for it. Your family comes first… <i>always</i> and I knew that when we first started seeing each other. I guess I just hoped that when I was ready to move forward with certain parts of our relationship you would be too, and when you weren’t I was hurt and confused. A part of me wondered if you would ever be ready, and I didn’t think you would be. So I… I thought it would be easiest and less painful if I just left.”</p><p>David’s throat works as he listens to me, and I’m almost convinced he’s going to cry again. Instead he wipes his eyes with his fingertips and smiles a little. “You know at one point I wanted to marry you.”</p><p>My heart shudders to a standstill in my chest, and I have to grab onto it to make sure I’m still in one piece. <i>Marriage?</i> I have to clench my jaw to stop myself from dry heaving. How could the other man have thought a comment like that would make anything better? Squeezing my eyes shut as tight as I can, I lean forward until my forehead is pressed against my steering wheel. I just want a drink in my hand more than anything else. </p><p>“Connor, I-”</p><p>“Just go, David.” My voice is small and quiet in the car compared to his, which hadn’t been overly loud either. “Just leave.”</p><p>“That was a stupid thing to say. Connor, I’m sorry, please just li-”</p><p>“No!” The anger and the hurt comes rushing out of me, and no matter what I try in my head to get it to stop it doesn’t. It just keeps coming and coming. “I don’t want to listen. I don’t want to hear about how hurt and lonely you are. I’m just as hurt and lonely. And marrying you? Right now the idea makes me want to be sick and sob. I loved you, still fucking love you, and yet you’re going to sit here and play games with me? Tell me what you’re hoping I want to hear so you can stop being less lonely and hurt? Get the fuck out of my car.”</p><p>“Connor, please-”</p><p>“Get the fuck out of my car!” I half sob, half snarl at him. </p><p>Not able to look at him anymore, I stare out the windshield, wishing he would just get out of the car and leave me in peace. Leave me to be alone and miserable. When he doesn’t, I have to swallow down the urge to throw whatever is closest to me. Neither of us says anything, and we sit in silence for several minutes. I watch as the front door to his house opens, and an all too familiar face pokes itself outside. Recognition lights up her face before she disappears back into the house. I know she’s calling to the other house member, telling him that I’ve returned. </p><p>Biting down on my bottom lip, I look away from the windshield to stare out my driver’s side window. The older doctor still hasn’t moved, and I’m too afraid of what I might say if I open my mouth to tell him to leave again. He must realize I’m not going to say anything else because he reaches for the door again and begins to climb out. I sense him stop and look at me, and I start to feel my shoulders rolling upwards to try and hide myself from his view. </p><p>“I know I said the wrong thing, but I hope one day you can listen to what I want to try and tell you.” </p><p>My eyes roll in their sockets, and I bite down harder on my lip to keep myself from saying anything else. David closes the door behind him, and as soon as I hear the door slam home I pull myself out of park and into drive. I look back in the rearview mirror as I pull away and I see him standing in the place I left him, staring after me and I tell myself not to go back. </p><p>I promise myself I will never go back. </p><p>But even in the moment I make the promise, I know I’ll break it again in a heartbeat for that man.</p>
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